


before the morning comes.

by lonelyheartsclub_com



Category: Murder Most Unladylike Series - Robin Stevens
Genre: M/M, poor bertie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-08
Updated: 2020-12-08
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:26:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27946763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lonelyheartsclub_com/pseuds/lonelyheartsclub_com
Summary: bertie and harold are in love, that's it.
Relationships: Harold Mukherjee/Bertie Wells
Kudos: 7





	before the morning comes.

**Author's Note:**

> tw // implied rape, abuse

Bertie twisted Harold's raven locks between his slender fingers, watching carefully how they would curl back into place. He carefully watched Harold's lips while he spoke, and how his lips would curl up into a smirk when he realised Bertie was watching him. 

Bertie Wells was in love with Harold Mukherjee. 

Harold loved him back. At least, he thought. Harold would do the same kind of things Bertie did. Absentmindedly trace the shape of his lover's lips. Whisper sweet nothings to Bertie whilst he played with his fingers.

One night, Harold couldn't sleep. He was whispering things to himself, until Bertie realised he was whispering them to him.

"I love you. You mean everything to me. Not a day goes by where I don't think about you, Albert Wells."

Bertie wanted to turn around and kiss Harold until he couldn't see straight. Harold wrapped his arms around Bertie and whispered.

"I don't know if you can hear me, but if there is a day that goes by where I don't say that I love you, Bertie, I am not in my right mind."

Bertie smiled. "I can hear you, Harold. And that has to be the most beautiful thing anyone has ever said to me."

Harold said nothing, just a kiss to the crook of Bertie’s neck and a tighter embrace. 

By the time the morning had come, they had both slept peacefully. 

“You know, Bertie, I just thought I’d ask if you were okay? You seemed out of it yesterday.”

Bertie mentally backtracked and remembered when he’d been thrown off by something Harold had said. It reminded him of Stephen. 

“Yeah, Harold. Don’t worry about me.”

He frowned and took Bertie’s hands in his. “I’m always gonna worry about you, Bertie. I love you,”

Bertie froze.

Stephen would say that. He would say that he was worried for Bertie whenever he withdrew away from Stephen in a pathetic attempt to escape their relationship, to no avail. Bertie would be forced to look Stephen in the eyes and he’d be forced to get him off and -

“Bertie? Love, was it something I said?”

He just shook his head. 

“Want a hug?”

Bertie nodded. Harold’s hugs weren’t like Stephen’s. Stephen’s were too tight, or sometimes he’d pinch Bertie in an attempt to make him squirm. But Harold’s were warm and comforting, and it was like they were bottled happiness. 

So he leaned into Harold’s touch and let the morning sun come up whilst they watched, nothing said between the two. 


End file.
